


let sleeping devils lie

by tysunkete (aozu)



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Feelings Realization, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 01:22:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13156185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aozu/pseuds/tysunkete
Summary: College AU.If there was a list of the life choices Kanda regrets, ‘refusing to sleep on the floor’ would probably top the cake, or maybe it’d be after ‘realising you have feelings for an idiot at 5 a.m. in the morning with anuncomfortable problem’.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted: 06/03/2015.
> 
> _Original prompts:_  
>  1) modern au where kanda and lavi are roomies and somehow b/c lavi is a sleepy bby sometimes he falls asleep on kanda's bed sort of accidentally and then kanda's all well this /is/ my bed and just squishes in there with him and then lavi hogs all of the covers ;v;
> 
> 2) its all fun and games till kanda finds out lavi gets handsy in his sleep  
> he probably should have realized when he saw lavi passed out on the kitchen table hugging a cereal box, but now he is trapped in his own bed with lavi violently clinging to his waist

_Present time—4 th February 2014. 5: 03 a.m._

When Kanda wakes up at 5 am in the morning with a hand pressed against his crotch, he mentally erases the top entry on his list of regretful life choices and rewrites this particular moment into the blank. To his credit, he does not freak out, but that’s mostly because he had also woken up two hours ago with some very curious hands molesting his abs and chest.

Let’s start with some background.

Kanda is a freshman in university studying Botany. He plans to move into the mountains to get as far away from his adopted father as soon as possible, but then he’s obligated to graduate with a degree first—hence he chooses plants, since it’d probably help him survive the wilderness. And that Kanda maybe does likes plants, so he might settle with owning a nursery someday.

In any case, he’s forced to study for three more years, thankfully away from his house—first years are guaranteed a place in the college hostel, and he had immediately taken the option to get away from his old man. Except, he did not exactly anticipate being stuck with a roommate (there are en suite rooms, such bullshit) and the said roommate ended up being…well.

Kanda doesn’t want to say the other is… _bad_ , but, yes, the other is really fucking _bad_.

To start with, his roommate looks like an idiot. He has hair in the colour of blood that is apparently, not dyed (it’s been six months and Kanda hasn’t seen dye bottles yet). He has one good eye and covers the other with a ridiculous leather eyepatch that _does not_ , however the other may suggest, do anything for his non-existent mysterious sexy poise. He has the most obnoxious laugh and the weirdest accent and a nasal tone that gyrates on Kanda’s nerves and the fucking idiot clings to him nearly every waking moment like they’re best friends, and the worst part is, the damn idiot probably is.

Even though they have absolutely no classes together (the guy takes history) and they have absolutely no common interests either (or maybe Kanda has no likes, the other has too many) but they somehow hang out at night and on weekends and it’s probably just Kanda’s fault that he’s antisocial and has no other “friends” per say that he would call to go hang out with. Lenalee doesn’t count, because she calls him.

Kanda hates small talk and conversations and anything that wastes his time really, but all of his time ends up being wasted _anyway_ with the redhead. He can’t count the number of times they’ve gotten into mind blowingly stupid situations because the other is an _idiot_ , can Kanda not stress that enough, like being stuck outside their room for two days because _someone_ managed to lose both their keys—like having a pizza throwing competition at their wall—like replacing all the milk in the common fridge with glue—like setting off the fire alarm and waking the whole damn building at 4 a.m. because one special asshole thought it’d be funny to attempt to microwave rotten tomatoes. With that much stupidity that they end up together in (in Kanda’s defense, he’s the voice of reason that never gets heard), it’s inevitable that he kind of maybe cares (just a tiny bit!) for the retard who’s prone to messing everything up despite having the highest grade average ever with zero effort.

Which might be the reason leading on to why his dick is hard beyond measure and there’s a hand that is not his palming it.

The sexual arousal is nothing new actually—or rather, Kanda’s made peace with it two hours ago after a bit of freaking out. He’s quickly adaptable like that. But he does have a problem with this tightening feeling that’s growing in his chest and the fact that he’s just getting even harder the more aware he is of the arms that are encircling his waist. And the chest that’s pressed to his back. And the shallow breathing that’s against his neck. He’s not exactly thrilled that he’s been stuck like this for the past two hours complete with the boner to cut steel.

There’s a low hum that breathes near his ear and some shifting occurs—fingers slide at the edge of his pants and brushes across the stripe of bare skin. He shivers involuntarily and jerks the moment he bites hard on his lip to prevent the moan that’s simmering in his throat. Fuck, his neck is blazing hot by now and he can’t fucking breathe right.

He tries to wriggle but he’s stuck in the suction tight embrace—he’s tried a lot of the wriggling and the jabbing and elbowing those two hours ago and he’s still in the same damn position, but there’s always no harm trying for the nth time. But the more he squirms the more he’s aware he’s basically rubbing his ass against the other’s hips _and_ the bolder the hand moves; it caresses his hipbone and dips down the front of his boxers—and f- _fuckk_ —it’s so hot down there he’s gonna—

He’s _not_ , Kanda thinks viciously, biting his lip harder to muffle the stuttered gasp that threatens to slip past his mouth. He’s also not going to touch himself to jack off with his fucking roommate plastered to his back, with the said person being the cause of it all. The other might just wake up and proceed to laugh his ass off, because that’s the kind of asshole the redhead is.

Not that Kanda wouldn’t do the same, except with more judgement and less obvious chortling.

But then the other would never be found in the middle of the night/morning jacking off to _him_ because while yeah, he’s attractive as fuck—he knows it, nineteen years of this face and body he definitely knows it—his roommate is solely interested in breasts and vaginas given by the porn mags the other stashes (badly) under his bed.

Whereas for Kanda himself, it’s kind of a grey area. He doesn’t think of what he’s attracted to much since he’s not really attracted to anything—or anyone in particular; he definitely doesn’t have a type nor is there a certain body feature that gets his attention. His roommate thinks he’s asexual, but that’s only because he isn’t stupid enough to get caught jacking off, which he does time to time, because he’s a _normal young adult_.

But he’s digressing. So maybe he _might_ be sexually attracted to the sleeping redhead, okay, fine, that’s so two hours ago. Like literally, it was two hours ago when he came upon the conclusion.

That’s fine, that’s all fine—but it’s also _not_.

It’s not when he’s almost giving into temptation to grab that hand on his crotch to rub it harder against himself. It’s not when he can almost imagine the redhead licking the back of his neck and sucking it and doing a lot of other inappropriate things that he really needs to bleach his stupid fucking brain that’s continuing its merry way down a very dirty gutter. His heart beat is thundering louder and louder with each desperate swallow he’s making despite his dry throat. And he’s getting even harder at the mere thought of it all, so much that the front of his boxers are starting to feel sticky.

This is bad. This is really bad.

It’s bad because he’s not going to be able to look at the idiot in the eye in the morning and it’s going to be _weird_ just because he can’t control his dick or his brain or his feelings and no matter how clingy the redhead is, he’ll get fed up at Kanda’s cold treatment eventually and Kanda will never see that retarded grin or hear that annoying butchering of his first name and he’ll _leave_ , and Kanda’s going to be _alone_ again, and there won’t be anyone to make him less bored or distract him when he _needs_ it and—

And.

  
And.

And _fuck_ , Kanda freezes.

He has feelings.

_Feelings_.

…

….

About the idiot.

_Fuck_ , Kanda repeats vaguely. _Oh fuck_.

* * *

_Two hours earlier—4 th February 2014. 3: 11 a.m._

Kanda wakes up approximately three hours after he closes his eyes. _This is bullshit_ , is his first thought, because he’s really fucking tired. _Fuck_ , is his second, because he realises why he woke up, and that’s thanks to an uncomfortable boner straining against his boxers. It’s not unusual that he’s woken up hard—morning wood, it happens—but it’s currently 3 fucking a.m.. So what if it’s morning, it’s morning at an ungodly hour that his brain shouldn’t be functioning at.

_What the actual fuck_ , is his third thought, because a warm palm is sliding so far up his chest that his shirt is practically half up. And then Kanda can’t remember what words that echo into his mind after, because it scrambles like fried eggs in a microwave.

His roommate has his arms tight around him, hugging him like some stuffed animal with more inappropriate groping. Seriously, why the hell is the redhead touching his chest and his…—nipples?

Bloody hell.

Without a second thought he rams his elbow backwards intending it to _hurt_ , but other than a vague noise, those arms are still tight around him. Frowning, he tries to shift or at least to turn his head around but he can’t. All he can see in the darkness is the glow of his digital alarm clock and the vague outline of the other’s messy bed. He waits a couple more seconds, feeling more awake with each passing tick, before trying the ramming elbow thing again.

This time, his roommate makes some sort of a whine and scoots even closer, effectively eliminating any semblance of a gap between their bodies. Also, the palm that’s touching his chest is joined by _another_ hand; this one trickles down to his abdomen where it traces the curves of his muscles.

Kanda is _not_ ticklish—but does find out at this moment that the light touches are stirring something hot in his groin, which brings his attention back to the fact that his cock is hard. What the hell.

Okay. It’s not actually a big deal right? Touching, unwarranted or not, does _things_ to a normal young adult, it’s basically biology. He’s just responding to stimulation, or something.

Whatever.

It’s uncomfortable but he can ignore it. He tries the wriggling in the attempt to break loose of the octopus around him for the last time but it doesn’t work. With a grumbled sigh he shuts his eyes again and tries to go back to sleep. Unfortunately it just makes him more tuned to touches on his bare body and also the uncomfortable problem below. His back is being pressed against some pretty firm muscles too—okay, wait, back the fuck up.

His roommate doesn’t work out like he does, but the other does play a couple of sports and burns his hyper energy doing sit ups or some shit like that. Maybe. The redhead is taller than him too—just slightly—so there’s the relatively good physique. Kanda’s objective about these kind of things. The face is…alright, Kanda supposes, some girls love the shit eating grin, with that unnatural hair colour and gleaming set of white teeth.

Well yeah his roommate is objectively attractive to a certain extent, but so what? Kanda’s never jacked off to him and he wasn’t going to start now. If he _had_ to jack off, it’d be to someone who actually has some skill with their hands instead of fucking teasing his nipples and maybe a tongue scraping down his neck and a low sexy murmuring of his first name—

Kanda snaps his eyes open in horror.

There’s only one idiot in the world who insists on using his first name and it’s not his dad and he just automatically played the voice in his head—fuck—he is so—

Fucked.

* * *

_Five hours earlier—3rd February 2014. 12: 04 a.m._

When Kanda steps back into their room after his shower, he looks at the immovable lump on his bed and scowls. Great. Just fucking great that his roommate had to crash on his bed even though the other’s bed is like, five fucking steps away. Their shared room is small with just two beds, two cabinets, two desks and two chairs along with all the other shit the redhead owns. Kanda doesn’t own much except for the necessities and his kendo bokken. He doesn’t even own any textbooks, unlike the other person who has his bed cluttered with old thick books, random crumped stacks of paper with illegible scrawled writing and several empty crisps packets.

Kanda is particular about the mess and within the first month they had established that the redhead was not going to live up to Kanda’s standard of ‘don’t leave your fucking socks on the floor, you fucking lazy pig’, so the compromise was that _some_ artistic mess could be made as long as it didn’t cross over to Kanda’s side of the room.

It also means that his bed, unlike the other person, actually has space for, you know, sleeping in. Kanda drapes his towel over a hanger and dumps his toiletries on the table, walking over. The redhead is sprawled out flat, mouth open, eye closed, eyepatch on the other eye still on.

Unmercifully he kicks at the other’s leg.

“Oi.”

“Oi. Asshole. Wake up.”

“I said wake up.”

The calm rise and fall of the redhead’s chest doesn’t falter in the slightest. Kanda clicks his tongue in annoyance.

He’s tired from kendo practice and he needs to get up for an 8 a.m. class tomorrow. There’s no space anywhere else in their room to sleep—they don’t own a couch and he’s definitely not roughing it out on the chair—except the floor. Maybe if he can be bothered, he can shove all the shit on the other’s bed and take it instead. Alternatively, he can carry the idiot and dump him on own pile of hardcover books.

But the redhead is heavy—Kanda knows this from the numerous attempts in which the other has tried to get a piggyback ride from him (still falling) and the floor isn’t carpeted and it’s _hard_ and it’s still winter and its _cold_ and fuck, Kanda is just going to sleep on his own damn bed.

It’s his after all.

The idiot didn’t even have the decency to leave some space for him, Kanda grumbles darkly, as he tries to roll the other to create some space and vaguely succeeds. Within two seconds he’s flicked the lights off and is assertively trying to claim whatever space he can despite being pushed to the edge of the bed with his roommate’s heavy weight against him.

Kanda rolls over to his side and blindly grabs the comforter, yanking it towards him. However, it doesn’t reach enough to cover his arms.

Goddammit.

He yanks harder, and is rewarded with a muffled groan of protest. For a moment Kanda thinks the redhead has woken up, hallelujah, but no, the noise lapses into a soft snore. Some shuffling occurs and Kanda grumbles more to himself and—a-and what the fuck—hands are encircling his waist and a face is pressed into his back, complete with some intelligible muttering.

Shit, is he being _spooned_?

Holy fucking shit he _is_.

He should’ve known the idiot was a clinger in his sleep. The stupid ass is always hugging something in his damn sleep—all the times that Kanda has found him napping or dozing off, there’s always a book or cereal box or a one litre coke bottle or that embarrassing (to Kanda) Asuna body pillow in his arms.

Kanda just wants to sleep, okay. He shuts his eyes and ignores the fact that it’s actually more comfortable because the other is warm. Fucking blanket stealer, he mutters under his breath.

Mother fucking _Lavi._

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic continued due to a ‘ _leave the first sentence of a fic in my askbox and i will write the next five_ ’ meme for the sentence: 'There have been many places Lavi's woken up in throughout his college years—and everyone he knows can attest to this, because they've either heard the stories twice or been there, too—but awaking half on top of Kanda on what seems to be /Kanda's bed/ is a first.'

There have been many places Lavi's woken up in throughout his college years—and everyone he knows can attest to this, because they've either heard the stories twice or been there, too—but awaking half on top of Kanda on what seems to be _Kanda's bed_ is a first.

He’s sure he has accidentally fallen asleep in Kanda’s bed before, but somehow he’s never _waken_ in Kanda’s bed—his roommate probably chucks him to the floor or to his bed at some point while he’s in snoozeland, so actually waking in this situation is unusual. What is more strange is that the roommate in question is below him, actually having _body contact—_ Kanda, who snaps at him when he throws his friend shoulder hugs, kicks him when he playfully tries to mess with the other’s hair, elbows him when he aims for encouraging shoulder pats, this Kanda, _has an arm wrapped tight around his waist._

Lavi cranes his neck up as carefully as possible to see the milky smooth skin of Kanda’s neck where he’s dangerously breathing too close to, and suddenly realises that his hands are up behind Kanda’s back, way up to the other’s shoulder blades. Throwing a peek down he sees how Kanda’s shirt scrunches up to reveal a toned abdomen that rises and falls in even breaths while the other’s sleeps on.

Okay. They’re touching _a lot_ more than Lavi has ever teasingly tried to molest his roommate. He swallows, breath starting to tighten as throws his glance around, trying to rack his memory on why they’re cuddling like lovers on a Saturday morning. Maybe he had fallen asleep on Kanda’s bed again for whatever reason, but Kanda should have pushed him off or something. There’s no probable reason why he’s in this incriminating position, but more importantly, Lavi seizes up and panics with his first dominating thought: Kanda’s going to _kill_ him.

As much as Lavi joking teases the other with more than comfortable touching, this is something that probably crosses the line because it feels personal, a lot more personal, and… _intimate_. And almost sexual, with the smooth expanse of Kanda’s skin so close to his mouth is just begging to be—no, _fuck, no_ , Kanda is his best bud, his irritable best bud who was going to end his life if the other wakes up with him on top. It’s not even going to be a punch to the jaw or a kick to stomach; _Kanda is absolutely going to rip him into shreds._

Fuckkkkkkk.

As discreetly as possible Lavi tries to wiggle his hands out from underneath Kanda, but the other is sleeping on them which makes it impossible to move them without alerting the other in some way. Still, he tries, inching them out as slowly as possible, but Kanda is heavy and he accidentally huffs out a breath frustratedly directly against Kanda’s neck.

A low groan sounds above him and he freezes immediately, snapping his eye tight shut. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ —he winces, trying to force his body to go limp as though he’s still sleeping. It’s hard to relax back against the warm body knowing that the warm body is going to decapitate him very soon. A few tense seconds tick by as Lavi waits either for his doom or for Kanda to fall back asleep—it’s a fifty-fifty, Lavi is praying on all his luck here, and it seems like he has some favour today when there is silence for the next minute.

Or not; Lavi swallows the shocked whimper bubbling from his throat when the body below shifts underneath him. _Play dead, play dead_ , he chants mentally to himself as Kanda makes some low noise again and turns over, such that he’s tilted very gently to his side. He hears a very soft curse that comes from his roommate followed by a controlled sigh. He can’t see what Kanda is doing but from the presses on the bed he’s guessing that Kanda is extracting himself from their cuddling with as little noise as possible.

Okay, good, if Kanda isn’t going to wake him violently to yell at him then maybe he can feign ignorance when he makes a groggy stir up later. But it’s not over yet, because Lavi isn’t aware of how entangled they are until this point. Kanda shifts his arm and it brushes over the bare skin of his back, causing him to involuntarily shiver. He hopes to high heaven that Kanda doesn’t notice, but that mental begging is abruptly cut short when Kanda tries to move his legs out from his and ends up rubbing something hard against his thigh.

Another curse echoes close to him and almost immediately the body warmth is gone. Lavi focuses on trying to breathe slow in contrast to the panic that’s bubbling up again—that was _definitely_ something he never expected, fuck, okay, he can ignore that his likely asexual roommate gets hard in the morning with him in bed, oh god, how the fuck was he going to forget he never felt that—

And suddenly a finger touches him on his cheek, causing his thoughts to derail into a blank. He absolutely refuses to open his eye because he’s definitely going to die if he does, but he’s painfully curious as to what Kanda is doing because he doesn’t know what the _fuck_ Kanda is doing touching him on the cheek. What the hell? Why is Kanda touching him when his roommate hates being touched on a usual basis? Is this a test?

The touch trails down to his jawline and Lavi’s heartbeat is going way off erratic—fuck, he can hear it like a thunderstorm, but hopefully, _hopefully_ Kanda still think he’s asleep, oh please, please, please—

Then he feels something warm pressing against his mouth, and that’s when his eye shoots wide open.

For the next three seconds Lavi doesn’t register _anything_. And then he sees his roommate’s eyes closed shut, the long eyelashes curled beautifully. The next thing that jolts him is the soft wet touch against his tongue—his lips must have parted with the shock, and now there’s another tongue coyly brushing against it, causing a sudden rush of heat to burn his face. He squeaks in an involuntary reflex, and the mouth against him freezes immediately.

Lavi isn’t sure if he’s hyperventilating or not as he watches Kanda jerk back with the other’s own obsidian eyes wide open. For the next twenty seconds no one says a word—Lavi hasn’t seen Kanda with that kind of expression before, a mixture of shock and embarrassment and _fear_. Kanda slaps a hand over his mouth as a dark pink colours his pale complexion, Lavi has never seen _anything_ like this, and backs away with a sudden movement, breaking the still tension, scrambling and accidentally tripping over the edge of the bed in the process.

Lavi would say something, should say something, but there are no coherent words that form and before he knows it, their door is slammed shut, leaving him alone half pushed up on Kanda’s bed.

…What the hell just happened?

* * *

It’s a Monday, which is why Lenalee is prepped up and ready to leave for 10 am class in less than an hour. She has a habit of sipping some hot chocolate milk in the slow morning whilst ensuring that she has her wallet, school ID card and laptop in her backpack. Monday blues, she sighs, but well, she does enjoy her psychology course so far—plus statistical math has always been easy for her, and it’s nearing the end of the semester anyway, closing on to exam term. She takes another mouthful of milk. Fifteen more minutes, her watch says.

An abrupt hurried knocking comes from behind her door, and she frowns. The cleaners are scheduled on Thursdays, and there isn’t anyone she had plans with in the morning. But the knocking doesn’t stop and she hopes that this isn’t another one of those lame hall pranks—opening it, however, makes her eyebrows raise in surprise.

“Kanda,” she greets, blinking at his long hair spilling over his shoulders and his decidedly informal sleepwear. “What’s up?”

Her friend—childhood friend, who incidentally stays in the same hall as she does (there is really only one university in their area, there wasn’t much thought about it)—barges in without a word. She used to this kind of behaviour from Kanda, but the way that the other starts pacing around in her room isn’t usual. In fact, Kanda is rather _fidgety_ ; his eyes can’t seem to focus on anything in particular in her room, and his fingers twitch near his thighs as he walks around.

The other particular anomaly she notices is that his complexion is rather flushed, especially at the tips of his ears. If she had to place a description on the man, she would say he was _freaking out_ , but she hadn’t seen Kanda being this flustered ever before. It’s weird. She shuts her door gently.

“Kanda?” she tries, touching his elbow. “Sit down.”

While he does go along with her gesture, instead of sitting on the bed like she was guiding him to, he sits on the floor and curls up with his knees raised against the foot of her bed.

“Kanda, what’s wrong?” she asks, alarmed.

Kanda presses his face onto his knees, and she can’t see his facial expression when he shakes his head, refusing to speak. This is fifty shades of troubling, because she has never faced _this_ Kanda before. She presses her lips together worriedly, touching him on the shoulder gently.

“It’s okay, alright? Whatever it is, it’s okay,” she says slowly, kneeling down beside him.

But she doesn’t get more words through, because another round of hurried knocking comes from her door _again_.

“Lenalee?” This time, Lavi’s voice echoes. “Lenalee, are you in?”

Before she even opens her mouth to answer, Kanda grabs her arm roughly. “Don’t,” he spits out quickly. “Don’t let him in.”

“Lenalee!”

Lenalee stares at the blind panic on his face and covers his hand with her own palm. “…Okay,” she nods. “I won’t let him in, promise.”

It takes a few more seconds before his grip goes slack enough for her to stand up, and she gives him one last glance before opening her door and slipping outside, closing the door behind her quietly. The redhead outside is frantic—also still in his sleepwear and hair mussed—and stops pacing little steps in agitation when he sees her emerge.

“Lenalee,” he greets, though his gaze flickers behind her. “Have you seen Yuu? He’s inside, isn’t he?”

She doesn’t answer his question directly, but both of them know it anyway. Instead, she crosses her arms and squints at the taller teen.

“What’s going on?”

Lavi fidgets at her stern tone. “I _really_ need to talk to Yuu. Please, just—I need to—”

“What did you do, Lavi,” she presses, and he winces at the dark tinge.

“I didn’t do anything!” he bursts out defensively. “I swear, I—“

“Lavi,” Lenalee levels with him calmly, with her voice kept low. “Kanda is really upset. What did you do?”

“I said didn’t do anything!” he hisses back, waving his hands in the air. He starts to pace again, wringing his fingers together, glancing along the corridor. “Fuck, what the fuck—“

Lenalee blinks, grabbing the edge of his shirt before he paces too far away in frustration. “Lavi, tell me,” she begins softly. “What’s going on?”

The redhead gives her a look that is nearly identical to the wide eyed panic she had just seen on Kanda.

“Yuu kissed me,” he says, and then the blabbering begins. “Yuu kissed me. He fucking _kissed_ me, Lenalee, on the mouth! I was sleeping! In his bed! He kissed me while I was sleeping _in his bed_ and when I woke he ran out of the door! What the fuck? What the fuck is going on?” he whines, squatting down. “Lenalee, _Yuu kissed me_ —“

Lenalee hushes him loudly before the whining escalates, squatting down to be at eye level with him. “Dude, calm down—“

“I am calm!” Lavi retorts. “I am so fucking calm because Yuu _kissed_ me in my goddamn _sleep_! Why the fuck would he do that? He wants to _kill_ me on a daily basis, why—“

“Yeah, no, you’re not calm,” Lenalee sighs, patting his head. “Lavi. Take a deep breath,” she advises. “In. Out. Good. Again. In…and out.”

Though the redhead is quiet in the aftermath, the fidgeting doesn’t stop.

“Look,” she pauses. “I don’t know why Kanda…did what he did, but let me talk to him, okay?” she says gently. “Go to class.”

“Don’t have any today,” he mumbles out.

“Well then, go sit in your room.”

“But—“

“Give me some time with him, all right?”

Lavi sucks in a deep breath. “…Okay.” It takes a while before he stands up, gaze still glancing every so often to her door. “Call me if…if…”

“Will do,” she nods encouragingly, and waits for him to fully disappear down the corridor.

When the redhead is gone, she faces her own door and refuses the urge to shake her head in despair. Kanda is still in the same position that she left him in. She isn’t sure how much he heard from across the door, but she knows that he knows that she knows.

“So,” she starts, sitting cross legged in front of him “You…kissed….Lavi? In his sleep?”

Kanda refuses to look her, but she does see how red the tips of his ears are.

“How long has this been going on?” she prods.

Kanda mumbles something too soft for her to pick up.

“I can’t hear you. How long?”

“…Two months.”

Lenalee watches him carefully. “How many times?” Kanda shakes his head in response, and her heart sinks. “Kanda, why?”

“Why the fuck do you think,” he mutters bitterly. “Fuck.”

* * *

Kanda exits Lenalee’s room past midnight on the same day—if she hadn’t firmly kicked him out, he would’ve stayed the night on the floor, just, anything to not see Lavi again. What the fuck was he thinking, playing that stupid temptation game for the past few months? He lost, and he lost badly—he never should’ve done it. Now he can’t even bring himself to enter his room— _their_ room, pacing outside for the past minutes with fervent prayer that Lavi was either not in or asleep.

It is exactly the opposite of what Lenalee had been trying to convince him for the past hours, but there’s just no fucking way he can talk to the redhead. What is he going to say, that he’s in love with the fucking idiot, with _real feelings_? That sounds terrible. It sounds like a goddamn joke even to his ears, Lavi would never buy it. Best case scenario, Lavi would laugh at him in the face.

Finally when he does turn the knob (because he’s really tired, he _does_ need to sleep), Lavi is, surprise, asleep in his own bed. Their room is also weirdly distinctively a lot neater than he remembers, especially the redhead’s side, except for the Asuna body pillow that has fallen to the floor between their beds. Kanda pads in, careful to keep it quiet and with extreme denial, he makes for his own bed and pulls the covers over his head.

* * *

It drives Lavi crazy when he knows that Kanda is avoiding him. _Actively_ avoiding him, because Kanda is like a goddamn ninja when the other doesn’t want to be found. It’s ridiculous, because he knows Kanda well enough to find those secret hiding places, but somehow Kanda always gets wind that he’s coming closer and evacuates before he actually gets there. He never wakes early enough to catch Kanda when the other is leaves in the morning—Kanda is the one who wakes (dumps cold water) him up most of the time, which the other has stopped doing ever since _that_ day. He waits at night for Kanda to come back, but the first few times he falls asleep at the desk, and other times Kanda sees him and immediately slams the door back shut.

It’s been a week and Lavi thinks he hasn’t even _seen_ his roommate’s face for more than two seconds—which is fucking ridiculous, they live in the same damn room. This time at night, he waits in ambush behind the door, so when Kanda finally turns the knob, he’s ready to pounce.

“Yuu—“

Predictably the door goes flying back to his face, but Lavi catches it and lunges after the body desperate to get away. On another time he’d probably laugh his ass off at this, but today he grabs Kanda’s shirt so tight that he trips over his own feet and crashes into Kanda’s back face first. The momentum and weight causes both of them to fall ungracefully in a mess.

“Ow, what the fuck,” Kanda curses, groaning at the nail scratches on his torso from how viciously Lavi is gripping his shirt.

“Yuu, listen,” Lavi scrambles upwards quickly, sitting himself on Kanda’s stomach. “Don’t try to run, you asshole.”

“Get the fuck off me, you’re fucking heavy!”

“Good,” Lavi crows, jabbing a finger to the other’s chest. “We need to talk, Yuu.”

Kanda swallows, avoiding the redhead’s meaningful gaze. “About what?”

“You _know_ what. I’m not stupid—“

“Debatable.”

“Hey—“ Lavi huffs, frustrated. “Yuu, come on. What’s going on with you?” he asks softly, concerned.

“Nothing.”

“Why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m not,” Kanda grinds out, pushing Lavi as far as he can as the other tries to lean in to crowd his personal space. “Idiot, get the fuck off me!”

Lavi frowns. “Was that supposed to be a joke?” he asks rhetorically. “You can’t even look at me in the eye, you ran away whenever I was in the damn room and I haven’t spoken to you in a _week_ —what the hell, Yuu? You’re my best friend, I’m _worried_ about you. What’s going on with you?” he repeats.

 Kanda clenches his jaw so tight it aches. “It’s nothing, you stupid rabbit!”

“Is this about the kiss?” Lavi raises an eyebrow, and immediately Kanda freezes. “So it _is_ about the kiss.”

“It’s _not_ about the damn—“

“I don’t care about it, okay?” Lavi bursts over him loudly, lips pursed. “Forget about it! It’s just stupid kiss, it didn’t mean anything! You don’t have to avoid me like I’m the plague because of that. Its fine, it never happened, okay? Is that cool? Are we cool now?”

Kanda stares at him in silence, swallowing minutely.

“Yuu, are we cool?”

Kanda pauses, but nods once. “…Get off me. Now.”

Lavi snorts as he gets up, grabbing the other’s arm to help him up, but he doesn’t miss the flinch away as Kanda brushes himself off when they’re both standing.

“I’m. I’m going to the toilet,” Kanda says, clipped, and walks off without another word.

Lavi glances at the back retreating down the corridor, feeling oddly cold. Kanda is fine, they’re good, but it doesn’t feel like it. He pushes the sour feeling away and goes back into their room, but an hour later when Kanda doesn’t return, he knocks his head on his desk and storms out of the door.

“Lenalee,” he calls, knocking on the said door a few floors down. “Lenalee, help.”

“What happened this time?” Lenalee raises an eyebrow when she opens her door.

“I think I said something to Yuu and pissed him off,” he says bluntly, barging in and pacing around on her floor. “I mean, he avoided me for like a damn week, and I forced him to talk to me just now and I thought we were finally okay, but he left an hour ago and he hasn’t come back, and I don’t even know what I said that pissed him off! He doesn’t want to talk about that kiss, right? So we’ll never bring it up! Why is he mad? I don’t understand, nothing makes fucking sense, Lenalee, you’ve got to help me—“

“Slow down,” Lenalee orders, and he stops. “You guys didn’t talk for a week?”

“Yeah, Yuu was avoiding me like ninja crazy—“

“I should’ve known,” she shakes her head with a sigh. “Nevermind. You said you talked to him just now?”

“Yeah. Sorta. I mean, I had to sit on him so he wouldn’t run away, and he didn’t want to talk about the kiss, so I said to forget about it. We’ll pretend it never happened. So _why_ is he avoiding me _again_?”

“Lavi,” Lenalee begins. “Why do you think Kanda kissed you?”

“Curiosity? Libido? Accident?” Lavi shrugs. “How the fuck am I supposed to know?”

She looks at him carefully. “…Have you ever considered that Kanda might actually like you?”

Lavi blinks for all of three seconds. “That’s a great joke, Lenalee, and I’m a hypocrite for saying this, but now is _really_ not the time.”

“I don’t make inappropriate jokes, unlike you,” Lenalee looks flatly back at him. “Lavi, think about it. First of all, you are his best friend—“

“Of course I’m his best friend—“

“—no, listen. He may be _your_ best friend, but that doesn’t mean that _you_ are his best friend. He likes you enough for that. And you know that Kanda isn’t straight—“

“No, I did _not_ ,” Lavi interjects forcefully. “I thought he was asexual, you know, which is why _this,_ is not possible!”

“He’s _not_ asexual, and as I’ve learnt last week, not aromantic either,” Lenalee says, amused. “It is not that inconceivable that he might like you. Furthermore, he kissed you while you were sleeping. While he was _awake_. He knew what he was doing, Lavi.”

“Well. I. I guess, but—“

“So, let’s assume that Kanda does have feelings for you. Now, you just told him to forget about the kiss. The kiss that would have meant a lot to him. Is it so hard to understand why he’s avoiding you again?”

“But I only said that because he obviously didn’t want to talk about it!” Lavi groans. “Besides, that only makes sense _if_ Yuu does like me—“

“Lavi, you know Kanda more than me, sometimes,” Lenalee says patiently. “Is it really so hard to imagine that he does like you?”

“Yuu would at least tell me, right?” he says, almost hysterical, but sobers immediately. “No, fuck, Yuu would never want to talk about his feelings with me. Fuck,” he groans. “Okay. If, _if_ Yuu likes me, what am I supposed to do now?”

* * *

“Yuu, wake up.”

Kanda refuses to crack his eyes open. He’s sure he’s just fallen asleep a minute ago, and now some annoying idiot is refusing to let him sleep after making him feel like a complete idiot—fuck his life.

“Come on, wake up.”

A pillow hits his back and he groans. “Leave me alone, you asshole.”

“Yuu, this is important, please. Wake up.”

The pillow hits him again and again until finally Kanda yanks it blindly and tosses it to the other side of the room.

“Fine, fine,” he curses, wrenching his eyes open to glare at his stupid roommate. “What the hell do you want?”

Their room lights are on which makes it all too easy to register that Lavi sits on his bed and inches closer with some sort of a nervous hesitation.

“So, uh, I heard that you like me?”

Is what Kanda hears next, and the resultant silence is thick enough to suffocate him twice over. His face flushes involuntarily although he desperately wants to deny it, so much for playing it off, his honest reactions are right on display from how off guard he’s caught.

“You _do_ like me,” Lavi echoes, as if in awe. “Fuck. I-I mean, not _fuck_ , but fuck, I…I-I mean, not in the bad way, but like—“

Kanda turns away, unable to stop how hard his heart clenches at the humiliation of it all. “Is this a fucking joke to you?”

“Huh? No, of course not, Yuu, what—“

Kanda meets his eye evenly. “Then leave me alone,” he states, sounding defeated.

Lavi swallows at the tone. “Yuu—“

“ _What_ ,” the other snaps harshly. “I said leave me alone, you fucking asshole! It’s hard enough with you in the room, so just,” he sucks in a deep breath. “Just. Go away, Lavi.”

The redhead stiffly stands up at the request, but he sits abruptly back down after a few moments.

“It’s not a joke. To me,” he says, voice neutral. “I just. I just didn’t think it was possible, since you’re not exactly _nice_ to me. I mean, you call me ‘stupid’ or ‘idiot’ or a bunch of names all the time; you never use my actual name unless you really want something. And like, you threaten to kill me twice a day, people don’t usually do that to people they like, you know?” He cocks a glance over by chance, and abruptly freezes when he sees that Kanda is stoically quiet. “Yuu?”

Kanda barely meets his gaze. “I said to go away.”

“What do you even like about me?” he asks anyway, staring at the wall opposite.

It takes a while, but eventually there’s some rustling of the covers where Kanda lies back down and turns his back toward him.

“You’re an idiot,” is the reply. “But you…care. About me.”

“Lenalee cares about you too,” he says.

Kanda says nothing in return, and after a few minutes, Lavi makes to stand up, but he stops when he hears a very quiet mutter.

“…She’s not you, dumbass.”


	3. Chapter 3

Lavi doesn’t know if Kanda actually sleeps, but the lump on the bed doesn’t make a movement after the last uttered words, which then keep _him_ up all night. That is the reason why he’s blearily struggling against some immovable force that’s dragging him along the corridor into another room at some hour in the morning, which he realises is the shower the moment ice cold water rains upon his form. He shrieks and splutters, wiping away the water from his eye to spot Kanda rolling his eyes at him.

“What the hell? I was just going to skip class—“

“You can’t, you idiot. Not this one, anyway,” Kanda snorts before sauntering out and slamming the door behind him.

Lavi blinks as he strips off the wet clothing, and snaps wide awake when he remembers the class test that’s happening in less than an hour. He rushes with only enough time to pull on clothes lying back in their room and grabs his bag, flying out of the door with barely a word to his roommate who’s back on the bed dozing. The adrenaline keeps him high on agitation about the test until its over—it’s nothing difficult, to him, at least—and his stomach growls deep the moment he steps out of the lecture hall.

He takes a step toward where the cafeteria is but stops immediately, hastily unzipping his bag to see if he managed to take his wallet with him…which he did not, as the said wallet is probably sitting snug on his bedside table where he always leaves it. However, he does see something in his bag that he’s sure he didn’t put in—it’s a sandwich, ham and cheese, with the receipt taped to it with the words ‘pay me you asshole’ scrawled on it with familiar hand writing.

Lavi grins, feet taking him towards the courtyard for a seat. He gets to an empty bench before taking out the sandwich for a bite, staring at the receipt at the same time. Typical Yuu, really. Whenever he finds these sandwiches in his bag, it’s always the cheapest sandwich combo—he would like one with eggs, but it never happens—but he guesses its fair because he hasn’t actually paid Kanda for the food yet. It’s been _months_ , huh, how many times has Kanda done this for him?

How many times has Kanda actually pre-bought sandwiches for him knowing that he’ll forget to take his wallet with him?

The thought stills something in his chest, and the next swallow feels a little dry.

He thinks about it intermittently through his afternoon lectures and the walk back to the dorm, until he turns the knob to their room and realises it’s locked.

“Yuu?” he calls, knocking on it. “Yuu! Are you in?”

He curses when he digs his hand into his pocket and realises that his key is sitting next to his wallet inside the room. Groaning he trudges downstairs to Lenalee’s room by reflex.

“Lenalee—“

The door opens faster than he expects, and a key dangles in front of his face. “Dude, I don’t understand how you forget this so often with your memory. Kanda’s at the gym, if that’s what you’re going to ask next.”

“Sorry,” he grins sheepishly. “And thanks.”

Lenalee smiles. “You do know that Kanda brings me your key every time you leave it behind, right?”

“Yeah, how else do you get it?”

“Kanda doesn’t do this for just for anyone, you know. It’s his way of being nice.”

Lavi pauses. “He…told you about that?”

“Sort of,” Lenalee grins. “He’s always been doing this for you, I wonder why _I_ didn’t see it sooner.”

“Yeah,” he swallows. “I wonder why.”

* * *

So now that the proverbial cat is out of the bag, Lavi half expects things between them to change, but also half expects that it doesn’t. And things do change, but not really. The first few days are quiet between them, but it leaks back into their usual bickering easily enough when Kanda trips over some books Lavi had tossed over the floor before promptly falling sleep across the damn floor, why can’t you fucking do things like a normal person, god, and there’s that. Lavi never brings up the topic again, and he’s sure as hell Kanda never wants to talk about it—that’s fine, because he doesn’t actually know what to say then to ask more questions like ‘are you serious, Yuu, are you fucking _sure_?’ or those ‘wait, you like me. _You_. Like _me_.’ splutters because what the hell, he’s always assumed Kanda is too prickly to genuinely like anything that’s not soba or kendo.

But sometimes he’d be at his desk working on a last minute essay and he’d catch Kanda looking at him in quiet spaces, or when he touches Kanda in a friendly gesture he sees the red tinge crawling up the other’s neck, or sometimes when he’s in bed with his eyes closed he can feel Kanda hovering above him before he hears an eventual frustrated sigh and the walk away. So his best friend likes him and he doesn’t know what to do about it because he _doesn’t_ like Kanda that way back. He doesn’t want to say ‘I’m sorry’, he’s sure Kanda would punch him in the face if he does, but he doesn’t like remembering that defeated ‘leave me alone’ request, or that ‘it’s hard enough with you in the room’—he’s making Kanda _miserable_ at some level.

And it gets more obvious with the days passing that Kanda _does_ treat him very differently. Even with a tiny thing like making sure he doesn’t miss those classes that he can’t, it means that Kanda remembers his timetable well enough and that Kanda actually listens to his chatter because _how else_ does Kanda know which classes he can’t skip? Yeah, Kanda may dunk him in ice cold showers or demand payment for lunches or be purposely out of the room at the time when his classes end but there’s always a safety net: he reaches class on time, he eats, and Lenalee always has his key. Maybe it’s not ‘nice’ by conventional standards, but it’s certainly nothing that Kanda would do for anyone else, and maybe, not even for Lenalee.

* * *

“Yuu, can you open the door?”

“Yuu! I don’t have free hands!”

“Yuu, come on, open the door, please?”

Lavi sighs and tries to nudge their door open with his foot because he’s balancing at least three weeks’ worth of laundry that’s fresh from the dryer, why does he own so many jeans, denim is _heavy_. No sound comes from behind the door and he pouts, putting down his basket reluctantly to let himself in. It’s past midnight so it’s not unlikely that Kanda is asleep—Kanda keeps much more regular hours than he does—and he’s greeted with the view of his roommate curled in his bed with his eyes closed, but the lights are still on.

He knows how much Kanda hates leaving the lights on because the other complains about bad sleep with lights on, but there is no mistaking that the lights _are_ left on, because Lavi would probably trip with his laundry basket and wake the whole building, as Kanda would grumble to him.

Lavi drags in his basket with as little noise as he can, turns on his bedside lamp and switches off the main lights. There. Kanda can’t say he didn’t compromise, at the very least. Now the only source of light is at his bed so he resigns himself to sitting on the floor at the foot of his bed to fold up his clothes. From this position he gets a view of Kanda sleeping facing him, and he doesn’t really pay the other much attention as he folds his shirts and pants methodically, until he realises that he _is_ staring.

A sleeping Kanda is quite different from an awake Kanda, because there is no scowl or pulled frown muscles in place. It makes his roommate look unreal, like a porcelain Japanese doll, under the dim lighting. It’s almost creepy, but the creepiness stems from how beautiful the picture looks, like it’s painted. He’s always known at the back of his mind that Kanda is attractive—a _lot_ of people (both genders) come up to him to ask for Kanda’s number, it’s depressing sometimes—and he’s seen the other shirtless enough times to question the definition of his own muscles, but he’s not attracted to dudes so it’s always been…at the back of his mind.

Now, though, it hits him startlingly clear.

Huh. If he was bisexual he’d have hit the jackpot with Kanda. He likes Kanda enough as a person—the guy is pissy most of the time but there’re those reluctant endearing traits, and he likes that Kanda takes no bullshit and has, not that the other will never admit, the same kind of warped sense of humor that he has. They hit off, they get along, Kanda is his _best friend_ , but.

Lavi sighs and leans closer to Kanda’s bed in curiosity. Kanda’s eyelashes are long, his cheekbones structured, but his lips are kind of dry. He holds his breath and touches Kanda on the cheek, and when he doesn’t get a response, he breathes a sigh of relief before sliding it lower to the other’s lips. Can Lavi kiss him and not feel weird about it?

Can he?

He doesn’t know.

He absentmindedly pats Kanda on the head before he intends to lean back, but Kanda snaps his eyes open at the touch and he jerks back in shock.

“Er. This—t-this is not what you think!” he protests immediately, scrambling backwards so fast that he hits his own bed.

“What the fuck were you doing?” Kanda glares at him suspiciously, though the voice is slightly groggy.

“I was just—just—just, your hair, it was in the way, I was just moving it so you could sleep better—“ he babbles nervously, “I swear, I didn’t do anything else!”

Kanda squints again at him before scoffing and turning his body over, pulling the covers over his head. “Whatever. Turn off the damn light.”

“R-right,” Lavi nods, blinking eye wide.

* * *

Sometimes, it’s immensely boring when your roommate is a workout junkie and you don’t want to do any work but he’s away at the gym racking up muscles. In times like these, Lavi bothers Lenalee. It’s a miracle she still opens the door for him, to be honest.

“Lenalee.”

“Hmm?” the girl hums, though she doesn’t turn to look at him.

They’re both on the bed sitting against the wall, Lenalee with her laptop on her knees and Lavi picking through one of the many romance novels that she collects.

“Yuu is. He’s,” Lavi ventures thoughtfully. “He’s good looking, right? From a girl’s point of view.”

“Anyone’s point of view,” Lenalee corrects bluntly, still engrossed with whatever she’s reading on the screen.

“Would you say he’s pretty? Or beautiful?”

“Sure, but you know better than anyone that he doesn’t like to be called either of those,” she answers, glancing at him. “What’s on your mind?”

“Well,” Lavi hesitates, picking at the dog ear on the page in the book he’s at, “A couple of days ago, Yuu was sleeping and I kinda…“

“Kissed him?” Lenalee stares at him with abrupt attention, eyes wide. “Oh my god, Lavi, you—“

“What? No! I didn’t!” Lavi scrunches his eyebrows together, incredulous. “I just touched him! His face! I mean, I just touched his face. And his head,” he corrects hastily. “Yuu looks really peaceful when he sleeps, right, like he isn’t scowling or doing that thing with his eyebrows, you know the one. And I just thought, he was really…”

“Beautiful?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs. “I mean, I knew he always was, but—”

Lenalee grabs his shoulder in excitement, but before a squeal breaks through, Lavi shakes his head forcefully.

“But I’m not bi! I like boobs! Only boobs! I’ve tried watching gay porn and I didn’t get hard at all!” he interjects. “There’s no way I can have sex with Yuu!”

Lenalee laughs. “Is that your main concern?”

Lavi shrugs. “I mean, I thought I should give some thought to it, you know? I like Yuu as a person well enough, it’s just, I still think it would be really weird to kiss him.”

“Lavi,” Lenalee smiles slightly. “The only question really is this: do you _like_ Kanda?”

Lavi shrugs again. “How do you know if it’s like _like_ and not just, like?”

Lenalee levels him with a thoughtful look before she brings her laptop shut and shifts to face him properly.

“Okay, let’s try this. Close your eyes. Eye,” she instructs and he obliges. “Imagine that I’m Kanda, alright? Kanda is next to you.”

He can imagine that easily enough—his eidetic memory is sharp, he can picture Kanda exactly as how the other is. He can even picture how exactly it was like when he woke on top of Kanda that day, the toned body underneath, the warmth, the skin scent, the smooth expanse of Kanda’s throat when he glanced up.

“Now, imagine that he’s touching your hand.”

Kanda would never hold his hand, is what he wants to say, but he obediently keeps quiet and tries to do as Lenalee says. Lenalee’s palm slips into his and she holds it, giving a tactile sensation that he can work from. He does remember how Kanda’s hands feel—broad, rough, but strong, and he replaces it in mind, of how it would be like if Kanda touched his hand and held it.

It’s. It’s…

He remembers how Kanda’s hand was slipping up his waist on that day, _that_ day…

“He’s looking at you right into your eyes. Eye.”

That’s even easier, the dark obsidian of Kanda’s stare is something he never really understands but if he’s ever faced with that kind of intensity, maybe, maybe…

“If he kissed you, would you kiss him back?”

The lip press, the bit of _tongue_ —he remembers how hot his face had been in the aftermath, staring at Kanda across the room in shock. Abruptly he yanks his hand out of Lenalee’s hold and covers his mouth, snapping his eye wide open to see Lenalee’s door from across him. He realises he’s breathing a bit heavy, but it had been too real; his memory always had been a tad too strong.

Lenalee lets him breathe for a minute before she pats him on the shoulder. “You okay?”

“I…yeah,” Lavi swallows, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “It was just a bit…” he trails off, gesturing vaguely.

She nods with a twitch of her lips. “Your face is _really_ red. Do I want to know?” she raises an eyebrow, voice amused, but he doesn’t answer.

“Lavi,” she begins gently. “I think it’s good that you’re…giving it some thought but you know that Kanda isn’t the best with his…feelings and he’s really deep into it. About you. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is that unless you’re _really_ sure you want you and him to be something more, don’t…” she smiles kindly. “Don’t lead him on, okay?”

* * *

It might be just a one time thing, so Lavi _makes sure_ by thinking about it more. Kanda is attractive, he can deal with that, the time on top of Kanda wasn’t a bad experience either, he can deal with that, and the kiss that Kanda stole from him, he might be starting to deal with that too. It’s kind of nice to know that Kanda wants him—this is _Kanda_ he’s talking about, and Kanda wants _him_. Kissing Kanda doesn’t have to be weird, does it, maybe he’s just been telling himself it will be weird. Maybe it won’t be, maybe it’s just like kissing someone he really likes. He _likes_ Kanda, of course he does, so shouldn’t be so hard to imagine that he would enjoy it.

If it’s anything like that morning, Kanda was going to French kiss him—wait, since when did Kanda ever kiss anyone?—and the body heat and smooth skin under his fingertips didn’t hurt either. Different from what he’s used to maybe, but that isn’t to say that it wouldn’t be good. Kanda is so domineering and fussy in his personality, the other would probably like to pin him down and take the control, but Lavi would fight against that, of course he would. Maybe it’d be nice to see Kanda on his back for once, looking _up_ at him, hair splayed and messy over the sheets.

He would trail the thought further along, but ice cold water splashes on his face and he yowls straight up.

“I was awake!” he shouts, glaring at the smirking culprit with the empty cup. “Sheesh!”

Kanda snorts. “Then you should’ve gotten off the damn bed an hour ago. I’m leaving for class.”

Lavi stares incredulously as his roommate casually puts the cup down, grabs his bag and walks out of the door. In the silence of their room he looks at the clock and realises it’s an hour later than he remembers it ten minutes ago— _fuck_. He throws the covers off in haste, but abruptly freezes.

He’s hard.

* * *

It really should call for a celebration that Kanda’s feelings are apparently mutual, but this celebration doesn’t occur because Lavi can’t seem to get a moment to break the happy news. He worries about it in the first few days, because, hey, it is nerve wrecking to talk about _feelings_ , there should be an appropriate moment to all this—but Kanda and he don’t exactly have many moments where Kanda isn’t insulting him or he’s annoying the other. More days than necessary pass and Lavi thinks he should just say it, but, whenever he starts with, “Hey, Yuu, I need to tell you something,” or “Hey, you got a moment?”, Kanda would squint suspiciously at him and ask if he broke the microwave again, goddammit, you are fucking paying me all of the rental deposit.

He just needs a moment where Kanda will listen to him seriously but more days pass and there is never that moment so he ends up trying to _make_ that moment. He knows Kanda doesn’t like it when he sleeps in Kanda’s bed and now he’s starting to realise _why_ ; one, because Kanda uses really expensive bed sheets which feel _amazing_ , by the way, and two, because Kanda probably wants to sleep with him in that same bed. He guesses. It’s not that far off, right?

So his brilliant plan involves him invading Kanda’s bed while Kanda is in the shower and hopefully Kanda will be too annoyed (or give into temptation) to sleep next to him and then he can make sure Kanda can’t run away and they can have that conversation that needs to happen. He even throws his books all over his bed so that it discourages the other from other alternatives and leaves a huge gap next to him while he pretends to have fallen asleep while Kanda is out of the room.

Like he said, Kanda’s bed is really comfortable and he nearly actually falls asleep, but just before he does so the door opens. He waits in anticipation for the annoyed click of the tongue and maybe some grumbling before the bed dips from Kanda’s weight, but instead he hears the annoyed click of the tongue and then the sound of all of his books being shoved onto the floor. He almost jumps up in indignance at how badly Kanda is treating his books, but he keeps his eye shut and listens to the numerous curses about him and his bloody sleeping habits. The lights flick shut and Kanda is still not next to him. When the noise settles, it’s obvious that Kanda has refused to claim his own bed and instead went to take Lavi’s—that’s exactly _not_ how it’s supposed to work out.

Lavi wants to bang his head on the wall, but that would be painful, so he doesn’t. Instead, he waits a few minutes in the silence before rustling his way out of the covers and crossing the step between their beds to slip into his own bed. He launches himself to hold Kanda around the waist first, because predictably there is an alarmed shout and struggle.

“What the—what the _fuck_ —“

“Yuu, don’t freak out—“

“ _What the fuck are you_ —“

“Yuu, just—“

“No, fucking seriously, weren’t you fucking sleeping—w-what fuck are you doing?!” Kanda’s voice goes high in agitation, but that’s because Lavi spoons him tight and presses his nose against the back of Kanda’s nape.

Kanda shivers at the touch, blood rushing to his face, hands clawing at the arms around him desperately. “Rabbit, if you don’t back the fuck away—“

“Yuu, just, just listen, okay,” Lavi says, breath too close to his ear, and Kanda can’t help another involuntary shiver. “It’s so hard to talk to you when I need to, I’ve been trying to tell you all week but you weren’t listening and it was really hard to find just one time, _one time_ to talk to you, goddammit. And why are you struggling when I’m holding you? I thought you would like this, since you like me and everything—“

“You fucking asshole—“ Kanda begins and starts thrashing.

Lavi winces. “I didn’t mean it that way, Yuu, stop—s-stop, you’re fucking strong, I get it, but I need to talk to you okay, and you didn’t want to come into your bed so I had to come into mine.”

Kanda stops struggling immediately. “What,” he says flatly. “You pretended to sleep in my bed. On _purpose_?”

The death threat underneath it makes him hesitate, but he nods anyway. “Like I said, I need to talk to you!”

“Then talk to me like a normal fucking person, you fucking idiot!” Kanda growls.

“Like I said,” Lavi repeats indignantly, “You weren’t listening!”

“You still didn’t have to sleep in my goddamn bed—“

“The last time I wanted to talk to you I had to sit on you, so yes, I _did_ have to sleep in your goddamn bed!”

Kanda grinds his teeth. “Tch,” he sighs, frustrated. “So what is this stupid thing that you _have_ to say to me?”

Lavi takes a deep breath. “Well, I uh, I…uh...” Suddenly in the silence, his throat becomes dry. “I...might…like you?” he mumbles meekly, and waits unsurely when all he gets is silence. “…Yuu?”

“…I like you more than a fucking _might_ ,” Kanda growls under his breath, sounding seriously pissed. “Get out.”

“This is my bed,” Lavi says in reflex, because Kanda just—did Kanda just…confess….with words….

“I said, _get out_.”

“Yuu, please,” he tightens his hold as much as he can. “I’ve never liked a guy before, I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” is the clipped reply.

“I do like you, Yuu.”

“You don’t.”

“But—“

“You don’t,” Kanda says again, harshly. “Stop saying that.”

Lavi frowns. “Look, I’m sure I had better things to do in the past week than to freak out over how I was going to get you to listen. I _do_ like you, okay? I’ve always liked you. You’re grumpy and rude and the worst person ever but you’re my best friend for a reason. And you really do care about me, I—“

“I don’t—“

“Typical Yuu,” he laughs lightly. “I’ve always liked you,” he repeats. “And,” he swallows. “I gave it some thought and I think I like you... _more_. For instance, do you know that you smell really good?”

“W-what,” Kanda stutters, clearly at a loss.

“You always did, but,” Lavi breathes in deeply, affixing his face into the crook of Kanda’s neck from the back. “Yeah. I like this,” he murmurs, closing in from behind, tight, and presses his hips against the other’s ass. “ _I like you._ How much clearer do you want me to be?”

He’s shameless rubbing his boner against his roommate, he’s really hoping the other doesn’t freak out (more), but hey—he’s felt Kanda’s first, on that morning. Kanda keeps silent but he’s not pushed away, so he clings on and enjoys the body warmth, until he feels Kanda groping at his hands to pry the hold apart.

“Let up.”

“I really do like—“

“I get it already, just let up,” Kanda orders, and Lavi reluctantly does so.

Once free, Kanda turns around so that they’re facing each other, and in the darkness, Lavi can’t see how dark the other is blushing, but at the same time, Kanda can’t see his facial complexion either. He does, however, see the glint in Kanda’s eyes. It’s better than anything he could have imagined—the intensity of it yet laced with a tinge of uncertainty that makes it so _real_. Lavi’s mouth runs dry when Kanda’s fingers digs into the front of his shirt, though the stare is determined, the hand fidget with a bit of hesitance, before Kanda pulls him in.

Their teeth clack painfully in the darkness, but its easy adjustment to find a more comfortable level. It’s not Lavi’s first kiss, he knows how to kiss, so he moulds their lips together and savours the feeling; it’s not weird at all, it’s actually very, _very_ nice, and soon enough their tongues are brushing hotly against each other. He moans softly at the sensation, hands absentmindedly digging into the back of Kanda’s hair, and he manages to breathe deeply once before Kanda’s hand is under his waist to turn him flat on his back before moving over him. Domineering and fussy, as he had expected, with the increasingly aggressive way Kanda explores his mouth, hands sliding up and down under his shirt. When they break apart, both of them are breathing hard.

“Wow. Okay. Wow,” he says again, breathless. “How long did you want to do that to me?”

Lavi smirks slightly as Kanda scowls sourly at him. “Shut up.”

He’s treated to a more aggressive lip-lock than the last, but he’s not going to just take it, of course not—he’s taller and heavier and he _does_ work out, so he does manage to flip their positions over. He grins darkly at the sight of face below him looking annoyed but there is also that undeniable swallow of _want_.

“How long did you want me to do this to you?” he breathes, smirking wider.

Kanda glares, yanking him back down before more words are spoken.


End file.
